The Long Weekend
by chezchuckles
Summary: The Dash Universe is concurrent with ours this time. Kate and Castle's son had his first birthday in October of 2013, and they were married in March of 2014. In April of this year, Dash Away showed us that their family was still going through some growing pains, but they're working through it. And now their Memorial Day weekend.
1. Chapter 1

**The Long Weekend**

* * *

**a Dash Companion**

The Dash Universe is concurrent with our own chronology this weekend. To get you up to speed, Kate and Castle's son had his first birthday in October of 2013, and they were married in March of 2014. In April of this year, Dash Away showed us that their family was still going through some growing pains, but they are determined to thrive. Ellery is born Christmas 2014, premature, which means Kate is pregnant here.  
And now their Memorial Day weekend, May of 2014.

* * *

"Fifteen minutes," he says into her ear.

Kate startles so hard her office chair rolls back, thumping into his knees. Castle laughs and turns her seat to face him, Dashiell giggling and hanging onto his neck.

"Mommy, sneak up."

Kate shoots Castle a look for coming up to the Homicide floor but he nods towards Esposito, letting her know without words that he called ahead first. Espo gave them the all-clear.

"You did sneak up on me." Kate tells Dash, taking him from Castle's arms. She glances to him again with a raised eyebrow. "Fifteen minutes?"

"Until our honeymoon," he murmurs, winking at her.

"Hardly," she mutters. "You're taking me to Paris for my honeymoon. Or the Greek Isles. Someplace good. Not your Hamptons house for Memorial Day."

He smiles back but he really wishes she would start calling it _their _house. "Yeah, just kidding. We do need a honeymoon though."

Kate's hand absently rubs Dashiell's back, but he can see her thinking about how impossible a honeymoon seems right now. They don't feel very honeymoon; April was merciless, though he thinks they're figuring things out, recognizing each other's limitations, finding ways to be good to each other. Working together to raise their son.

But if it's not their relationship that they're fighting for one day, then it's Dashiell another. It's hard to plan happier times when their son's future looks difficult and troubled, when they don't know how to help him.

"Let's see how a three-day weekend goes first," Kate says finally, giving him a bare smile. "Then we'll plan a honeymoon."

Good point.

Dash is wriggling back and forth in Kate's arms and she uses one hand to log out of her computer, put away her files. Castle leans in and closes a manilla folder to hide a few gruesome photographs, but the boys have already flipped the white board over to keep Dash from seeing whatever ongoing case they've got.

"Hold still a second, baby," Kate is murmuring.

Castle stands up and grabs Kate's bag from beside her desk; she stands with Dashiell in her arms and juggles him awkwardly. "You have anything else?" he asks.

"That's it. Did you pack me?"

"I did. Everything on your list. You have your charger here? Because I couldn't find it."

Kate spins in a slow circle, Dashiell leaning far out of her arms so that he puts her off-balance. Castle takes the kid away from her, giving her a chance to look for the charger. She opens her bottom desk drawer and grabs it and a couple other things, stuffs them into her laptop bag.

"Okay?" he says.

"Good to go."

Montgomery steps into the bullpen before they can leave, giving them a wide smile. "You getting out of here, Beckett?"

"Yes, sir," she answers.

Dashiell interrupts by lunging for the Captain. "Uncle Mo!"

"Hey there, son," Montgomery laughs, catching Dashiell before he can fall out of Castle's arms. "You're getting so big. How big are you?"

Dash holds up his two fingers with a beaming smile, bouncing in Montgomery's arms. Kate reaches forward and brushes the hair out of Dash's eyes. "Can you tell Uncle Mo you're almost two?"

"Two. I two."

"Almost two. I can see that. Nearly three, aren't you?"

"Let's not rush it," Kate smiles. She turns back to Castle with a meaningful look and he nods, leaning in to collect their son.

"Come on, Dashiell. We've got to hit the road."

"Hit road," Dash says wisely, patting Uncle Mo as he leaves the Captain's arms.

"You guys have a nice weekend. All this will be here when you get back, Detective Beckett."

"Deck Beck!" Dashiell giggles, squirming to get down even as he reaches for his mother. Kate winks back at him but she leads the way towards the elevator, letting Castle deal with the wild man.

The Homicide floor is all smiles watching them go, but Castle keeps a firm hold of Dash so he can't run off. On the elevator, Kate takes the boy's hand and kisses his fingers.

"Don't know about you," she sighs, "but I think we all could use a relaxing couple of days."

* * *

When it's still and quiet in the backseat, Kate turns and glances at her son. His cheek is smashed against the side of the carseat and his mouth hanging open, his lashes dark and shadowing his face. The sunlight coming through the window touches his hair with golden licks, but the curls are all but gone.

Kate turns back around and smiles to herself, shares it with Castle. "He's asleep," she murmurs. She doesn't know why she's talking so quietly, they've been playing music from the ipod since they got in the car.

"He likes sleeping on the go," Castle laughs back.

"Took long enough," she sighs. "I thought he'd sleep the moment we got on the road."

"He was excited. Happy to see you," Castle says, reaching forward to turn down the music. She can't remember why she let Castle drive; she hates having nothing to do. Now that Dash isn't kicking her seat and begging for cheetos, she's regretting not having the wheel.

"How much longer until-"

"You're worse than Dash."

She laughs and rubs her forehead, reaches into the floorboard to grab her bag, distract herself. She pulls out her phone and calls up her google search where her last results are still prominently displayed.

"Speaking of Dash," she sighs.

"Kate, let's not do this. Not this weekend. Let's swim and have a cookout and fireworks and just not-"

"Okay," she says quickly. She doesn't want to push it. They need to talk about it soon; they're running out of time. Dash is running out of time. But a weekend, they can have a weekend.

"Kate," he sighs, regret in his voice.

"No, you're right. You're right. We need a weekend away from it. Everything."

Castle reaches over and takes her hand; their fingers lace and hold on, and at least they have this moment of solidarity. They've fought over the pediatrician's visit and the research they've been doing, over preschool and her job, but at this moment, right now, they're in sync.

"Hey, look, there's our exit," Castle grins, glancing at her once before signaling to change lanes.

"Already?" His fingers are wide between hers, spreading her grip. "He's only slept about thirty minutes."

"He wasn't going to sleep tonight anyway. Thirty minutes is better than nothing."

She sighs but lifts his hand to her lips, kisses those wide knuckles. "Better than nothing. Drive slowly then."

"And waste more of our day?"

Kate glances past the window to where the sun is already going down. "Day?"

"You're right. I meant I don't want to waste our night." He wriggles his eyebrows and she bites her bottom lip. She would really love not to waste their night.

"Faster then," she rasps.

Castle chuckles and lays their joined hands over her knee, rubbing his fingertips along her jeans. The exit comes up quickly and Castle turns onto the main highway, their car pointed towards the summer houses.

She always feels out of place the moment they drive along the coast, the perfection and the mansions, the manicured lawns rolling out into reflecting pools, and the men wearing white pants and boat shoes while the women wear silk miniskirted dresses and too many jewels.

Even Castle's home makes her uncomfortable. And here comes the long drive with glimpses of the beach between the trees, the lawns and wrought iron fences, the gardens. She leans her cheek against the window and watches the unfamiliar houses pass.

Before she can really prepare herself, Castle is pulling up the long circular drive towards the Tudor-style home.

Kate takes a long look, the elegance and the cottage touches, the white-

She jerks upright, strangling her neck against the seatbelt, straining toward the windshield. "Castle, oh no. Castle-"

"What... what in the world?"

"Oh, God. Your gorgeous house," she cries, already pulling on the handle and pushing open the car door. Castle cuts the ignition even as she runs towards the main doors, her horror growing as she steps through at least a foot of standing water all around the house. The brick path is slick under her shoes, the flower beds strangled by water.

She wades to the front door and sees the warped wood, the mildew growing up the wooden beams, the mud and filth growing stagnant in pools.

"Kate. Why's there so much water?"

She turns, her hand on the door, and Castle is standing bewildered on the gravel drive. "Castle. I think it's flooded. Either underground here in front or-"

"Inside." His face pales. "The pipes burst. I should have-"

"But it hasn't been freezing since..."

"It froze just three weeks ago," he growls. "I have to find the shut-off valve for the water. Here, catch." He throws her the keys to the front door and she cuts her palm grabbing for them.

She hears him heading around the side of the house; she thinks the shut-off is out in the attached garage or maybe the poolhouse, which is in the back. She can't remember - she's not sure she's ever asked. She shoves the key in the door and glances back to the car to be sure Dashiell is still buckled in if not asleep. She can see the top of his head still leaning against his carseat.

She opens the door without looking and a wash of water floods out, swirling over her feet and soaking her jeans. Kate turns her head to look and can't believe it.

The whole north wing has been standing in at least four inches of water. She can hear it still burbling somewhere in the house, but even as she steps over the threshold and inside, the noise ceases abruptly.

She moves carefully, surveying the damage, the absolute wreck of his beautiful house. The baseboards are slimed with mold, the walls rippling with a brown water mark. The gorgeous wooden floors are rotting through while the furniture has already begun to stink, bursting cloth at the seams. The curtains are soaked with water and a few have fallen under the weight, everything sagging.

Castle comes in from the main kitchen, his hands covering his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He stares at the destruction.

Kate goes quickly to him and wraps her arms around his torso, holding on to him, cupping the back of his neck. "Oh, Rick. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

His arms fall, dangling limply, and she presses her cheek to his.

"It's... the kitchen pipes," he husks.

"It's been like this for three weeks," she sighs. "At least."

One of his hands comes up to her shoulder as if he needs to hang on. "I winterized the place. I... I can't understand how this happened."

Her chest tightens; it's her own fault. He wanted to come to the Hamptons house for the weekend after they were married early in March, but she wanted only to go home with him. She persuaded him away from here because she's never felt comfortable, and now it's ruined.

"We'll... call a contractor. Tonight. We'll call before they close-"

"It's already six. On a holiday weekend. No one will-"

"If you promise ludicrous amounts of money," she interrupts. "Which you - we have. We have the money, and this is - we can't stay with it like this."

"The south wing is closed off, remember?"

The door. She did that. She asked him to close it off. "Do you think it's survived?"

"I checked. The water pushed out of the kitchen towards the living room here and out the front door. I didn't look at the parlor or the-

"Then call. Right now. We'll fix this, Castle. This weekend. Have them rip out the floors and check the walls for mold, and we'll hire a decorator to come in and find new materials, take the furniture out, replace it-"

"Kate," he sighs. He sounds weary, and that's not like him.

"Wait, I've got my phone," she says, moving in his arms to get in her back pocket. She unlocks it and cancels the search she's had up for the last month, the query she showed him only to have him turn his back on her and not speak to her for the rest of the night.

_signs of autism_

She can't quite ignore it, but she types in a new search for a contractor in the area, determined to fix this. She taps the phone number of the first one with good reviews even as Castle is frowning at her.

His hand wraps around hers and she pauses, glances at him.

"Only if you'll do this with me," he says.

"What?"

"Together. We'll do this together, Kate. It will require choosing new floors, new paint, new furniture. We'll have to gut the kitchen. I don't want to do this without you. Our place. For our family."

Kate's breath catches as she hears him, the urgency in his voice.

His beautiful house can be their beautiful home.

"Together," she promises. She curls her free hand around his wrist and takes his fingers away from her phone. "We're partners, right?"

Castle lets out a long breath and nods, apparently unable to speak. Kate lifts to kiss him but at that moment her call is answered.

"Hello?" she asks, dropping flat-footed and hearing the water squelch in her shoes. "Yes, I live at 5 Further Lane, and we've had massive water damage to the whole north wing of the estate - and I don't know what else. I need a crew out here as soon as possible; we'll pay you double your asking price."

Castle chuckles then, giving her a long look for that. She covers the phone with her hand and lifts an eyebrow. "What?" she says softly. "We can afford it."

He nods, smirking, and he turns to survey the damage once more. Only now the despair has left him and it's only determination, resolve.

That's more like it.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Long Weekend**

* * *

It's a beautiful morning. A little too early for their long night, but that's okay.

She's awake. She can hear the huge industrial fans still blowing downstairs, trying to dry out the beams and the slab after the crew pulled up the floors and baseboards last night. They have a huge dumpster in the front yard with most of the ruined mess, and she'll have to remember to keep Dash close; he'll want out there and he'll find a way to climb into that thing.

Kate slides out of bed and casts a backward glance at her husband. She made him happy last night, (well, that too), but she made him happy taking ownership of their life together. And now he's passed out, morning light making his hair golden and his skin glow.

He's a beautiful man. He really is. He's been patient with her.

She leans in and softly kisses his cheek, brushes the hair off his forehead like she does Dash. He doesn't stir, unlike his son who would have been instantly awake at her touch, and so Kate gets up and heads for the hallway.

She checks on Dashiell first, pushing open the door to his room. He's asleep too, but she doesn't linger, afraid to wake him. When she moves back down the hall and into their own bedroom again, she takes a long look at the furnishings, the whole effect of the room.

She never realized how it bothers her, the whole effect, colors and furniture. She remembers the master bedroom in the north wing has a gorgeous fireplace with an anchor fixed deep so that the flames rise around it. She likes that, wonders if they could reproduce it in here. And the nearly-pink tinge to the bathroom cabinets, the bright silver of the door knobs - she would pick brushed nickel, echo the darker, stronger lines of the house. Echoes of the loft to make it feel more at home.

She figures this will continue to be their bedroom; they won't move to the north wing. Dashiell's room is closer here on this hall than it would be on the main, and if they do manage to get pregnant again, then there are two more rooms as well.

Two more? Okay, that's rushing things. She can barely keep up with just the _one_, so it's good they're not trying yet. She'd like to get a handle on Dashiell's... issues first.

"You're ogling me."

Kate laughs and shifts her eyes to the bed, sees Castle grinning even while he feigns sleep. "I wasn't. Though I am now. My ruggedly handsome husband."

He laughs and opens his eyes, looking at her. "Finally. Only been a few months, but it sounds good, doesn't it? Wife."

She lifts an eyebrow and comes carefully towards him, reaches down to slide the bedding out of the way. Castle shifts in invitation, leering at her.

Kate flips the bedding back and then completely off, dragging it from his body, dumping it on the floor. "I don't like this pastel stuff."

"Huh?" He's laughing at her, clutching his pillow now like he's afraid she'll take it.

"Blue. I like blue."

"Blue," he echoes, sitting up by propping his elbow under him. "Oh, the sheets and comforter? Okay."

"Because it brings out your eyes," she says, smirking back. But that was a little too honest for her, and she feels stupid about it the moment it leaves her mouth.

Castle only grins, and not with amusement, with pleasure, pride. He snags her hand and tugs and she sinks down onto the mattress. "Beige and peach are boring," he agrees, caressing her arm back to her elbow. "Blue is better."

"But you'll help me look. For new stuff."

"I said I would. I said we'd do it together."

"And that fireplace in the master?" she says, glancing towards the north wing as if she can see it from here. "I like that too."

"Me too. I actually picked that myself."

She grins and faces him. "I've always thought you had good taste."

"Picked you too, didn't I?"

Kate laughs, but she's flattered anyway. He's smooth, and he's charming, but it still _works._

"You want to recreate that in here?" he asks. "Actually, I think we should move the whole thing. We can rework the north wing to hold guests, Alexis can have that side and she can bring friends-"

"Or her family, when she's-"

Castle groans. "Don't ruin the sexy mood with talk about my daughter getting married."

She smirks a little. "All right. But the second floor wasn't ruined. We don't need to-"

"Sure we do. I mean, we might not be able to do it all this weekend but we can make a good start and then spend this summer coming up here, doing it piece by piece."

The thought of spending her weekends away from the city, away from _work_, used to make her anxious, make her feel caged and restless, trying to figure out how she could possibly get away that long.

But it sounds wonderful.

She curls her hand around his arm. "Okay, so we're... basically redoing the whole house now, Castle."

"If that's what it takes."

* * *

Kate hands over Dashiell to his father. "Can you - keep him distracted? He's trying to run through the kitchen and they're working in there."

The fans are still going and it's impossible to even _think_. Dashiell seems afraid of those big industrial blades, but not at all afraid of power saws and sledgehammers, unfortunately.

Castle juggles the kid and nods. "Did you see the backsplash tiles that she brought?"

"I did. I like the one with the stainless steel."

Castle grins. "Me too." Dash tries to lean out of his hands, but he catches the kid and clamps him to his chest. "What about the paint? I don't want it too dark."

"No, you were right," Kate nods. "That lighter one. But then the cabinets..."

"Fine," he sighs, but he's smiling at her. "Paint the cabinets white. And then when cooking stains them-"

"We'll repaint. Or clean them." Kate leans in and kisses his jaw, ducks a wild swing of Dashiell's arm as he squirms to get down. "Be good for Daddy. He's taking you to the beach."

"I am?"

"I promised," she says with a little bite of her lip. "Do you mind?"

"Beach, Daddy."

"Right, of course. How can I say no?" Castle shakes his head at her, but he really doesn't seem to mind. He cups the back of Dash's head, trying to keep him still, and finally has to put the boy down, holding onto his hand tightly.

Kate steps back. "I've got to meet the designer in town; the floors."

"Bamboo, right?" Castle grunts as Dash pulls on him, but he keeps on his feet, pulling back. "I like the lighter shade-"

"Yeah, I know you do, but in the entry here, Castle, I thought-"

"Kate," he sighs. "It has to match."

"I know, but I really like doing a kind of parquet. It would just be in the entry here." Kate shifts and catches Dashiell before he can escape Castle's hand; she sinks to her knees and squeezes the boy by the nape of his neck. "Dash. One minute. Let me talk to Daddy before you go."

"Beach. Whales!"

"Whales?" she laughs, glancing up at Castle.

He shrugs. "Just a story." He's looking warily towards the entry.

Kate rises. "Can you trust me on this? The design will be simple, but I think it will make the whole place come alight."

He tilts his head, finally looking in her eyes. "Alight?"

She catches the back of Dashiell's shirt, frowning at Castle. Is he making fun of her?

"I've never heard you say something like that," he answers, shaking his head. "Okay. All right. Parquet the floor. I believe you, even if I can't picture it."

Kate leans down to corral Dash once more, catching him up in her arms, and she uses her son to hide the surge of pride that flushes through her. He trusts her, of course he does; they're partners.

It's not that he trusts her with his physical well-being, but that he trusts her with his _life._ Hishome. She's reminded again that he's done that for her, every time. When they got pregnant with Dashiell, he made it _them_ and not her alone, no matter that, at the time, she wanted it to be her alone.

He didn't let her live with him, he didn't giver her a place in his own life. No. He recreated a life of their own. Not for her, but with her. And now that's what he's proving to her again, right now.

This is their home; they bring it with them wherever they go. They make it together.

"Beach!"

Castle laughs and takes Dashiell from her once more, brushing a kiss to her cheek. "Beach it is, wild man. Let's leave Mommy to buy us new floors."

* * *

"Time to go in," Castle says firmly, scooping Dash out of the waves. The sun has burned off the early morning haze and grown fierce overhead. He feels gritty and washed out.

"No, no, no, Daddy-"

"Yes, kiddo. Time to go. You're starting to drown."

"Drooooown!" he wails.

"You don't want to drown," Castle laughs. "Believe me." He wrestles his wet, salty kid against his chest, managing to only push them farther out in the ocean, the water at his knees. He winces, feeling the scrape of his skin, and glances down.

Maybe a little red. Dashiell twists and Castle gasps, nearly knocked off his feet by his son and an untimely wave, and the pain of his sunburned skin makes itself known.

"Uh-oh," Dashiell calls. "Daddy, uh-oh."

"Yeah, buddy. Nearly knocked me over. Let's go back up to the house and find Mommy. And maybe some lunch. It's late."

"No! No! No!" Dashiell flings himself out of father's arms, straight into the ocean. Castle jerks forward and snags a limb, lifts Dashiell out of the water by his arm, the kid dripping and crying for real now.

Jeez. At least he's breathing.

Castle wades towards the shore, wrapping Dashiell in his arms and thumping his back as the kid struggles and chokes. "I know, I know. That big mean ocean. A wave caught you and dragged you right down, didn't it? Maybe it was a whale, coming in too close and just trying to get back home, buddy. Splashed you pretty good, huh?"

But Dash doesn't seem willing to be joked out of it. He cries real tears, squirming as he coughs on water and surprise, and Castle's skin is starting to burn, chafed by the kid. He shifts Dash to one arm and grabs the towel he left on the beach, wraps it around the boy's body.

"Come on, my wild man. Let's go find Mommy. She can make it all better."

"Mommy," Dash wails.

* * *

She can hear her son crying before they come into view, but she's poring over paint samples from the designer and watching the crew in the kitchen as they cut off the countertops. New appliances come today.

She glances up finally and Dash quiets down at the first sight of her, but Castle-

"Rick," she gasps. Kate jumps to her feet and runs out of the kitchen, through the living room to meet him at the back deck. "Castle, oh, babe, you're red as a lobster."

"I put sunblock on him every time he got out of the water," Castle winces, "but I'm not sure I put enough on me."

Kate hesitantly touches Castle's arm, sees the skin blanch and then rise to pink. And then swamp with red again. She lifts her head, just manages to dodge Dashiell's kicking foot as he tries to reach for her. "This is going to hurt. Let me have him. You go upstairs and put something on that."

Castle eases Dash to her, winces again. It looks like it already hurts. "What am I supposed to put on it?"

Kate glances around at the chaos in the living room, the furniture pulled out and drying on the front lawn before it's shipped to the goodwill, half the floors pulled up, the fans running high and constant through the whole house. Dashiell is whining against her neck, squirming and tired and probably irritated by the noise.

"Come on," she tells Castle. "I'll do it. Let's get out of the work zone."

Castle follows her docilely, and even Dashiell seems to grow quieter the farther they get from the north wing. Once they're through the threshold and into the south side, Kate lets Dash get down, shutting the door between the two side of the house.

Castle, bare-chested and still dripping water, throws the towel over Dash's head and makes him giggle. His own smile is soft and pleased, and Kate takes his hand.

"Come on. Upstairs. Dash, baby, you want to climb the stairs?"

Dash is giggling hard under the towel, fighting to get free of it, but his excitement is clear. "Stairs, stairs, I climb."

Kate drags the towel off his face and pops the waistband of his swimming trunks. Still soaking wet. "Okay, come on. We'll go upstairs and dry you off. Get a clean diaper and some clothes. And help Daddy cool off."

* * *

Castle sits very still on the edge of the bed, watching Kate as she smears lotion onto her hands. Matter of fact, a little unthinking, she comes to him easily, her hands on his shoulders first as she stands in front of him.

Dashiell is trapped in the room with them, the door closed, but he seems content to hide under the bed, still in his mother's game. Kate counted to ten and told him she would come find him, but it's a trick.

They won't be going under the bed to get him if he's happy under there. The quiet is nice.

Castle lifts his eyes and finds Kate intent on smoothing lotion over him. Her fingers are light, cool, the relief of her touch drugging. Everything is gentle around him, a moment out of time. He hears Dashiell playing under the bed, talking to himself or his Spiderman, and he feels Kate manipulating his arm as she slides lotion over his sunburn.

"Thanks," he tells her. She cuts her eyes to his, smiles briefly, still focused on the work of it.

He hooks his finger in the pocket of her shorts, tugs a little, and she takes a shuffling step into him. "Hey," she says, laughing. Her hands come to his shoulders, greasy with the lotion, and she slowly rubs along his collarbone.

He kisses the inside of her elbow. "Hey."

"You guys have lunch yet?"

"No."

"No? It's nearly two."

"Yeah, I lost track of time," he admits, lifting his head to her.

She suddenly cups the side of his face, her thumb circling below his eye. "You really did. You were wearing your sunglasses."

"Yeah? Yeah, it was really bright out there."

She bites her bottom lip, shakes her head as she sinks down on the bed next to him. "You've got pale raccoon eyes. It's kinda cute."

Castle huffs and stands, moves to the bathroom to look at himself. He catches sight of his reflection in the mirror and sighs. A big white stripe bands his eyes, and he leans in, studies the redness splotching his chest too.

"You got some of yourself covered," Kate says, coming up behind him. She rests her palm on his shoulder blade. "Like here. Obviously you tried."

"Doesn't count for much. Gonna itch too when it peels. And, man, it stings."

Castle turns and looks at his back in the mirror, sees the violently angry red.

Kate softly pats his shoulder. "Let's get you boys some lunch."

She walks way from him, heading for the bedroom, and he watches her get down on her knees and flip the bedding back, ducking to look.

She laughs and calls softly to him. "Hey, come here."

Castle drifts away from the bathroom sink and back into the bedroom. She gestures under the bed and he bends over, hands on his knees, and looks.

Dashiell is asleep under the bed, his cheek pressed against his Spiderman, completely worn out. Wow. Gone. "He's asleep."

"Will wonders never cease," Kate whispers. He glances at her and her eyes are so warm with love. Brown and green and flecked with gold. Amazing.

"I should probably wake him up," Castle offers. "He won't sleep tonight."

"He doesn't sleep most nights," she says. She shrugs and flips the sheet back down over Dashiell's napping spot. "Let him sleep. I'll get you some lunch and we can chill out up here, get away from the noise."

He glances back to the bed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Besides we have to decide on all the new furniture."

Castle groans, flopping back against the mattress, but his skin burns and he jerks upright, hissing. "Ow, ow, ow. See what I suffer through for you? Just to get the kid out of the house. Shouldn't that be enough? No shopping."

"Oh, poor baby," she says. "A martyr to the cause."

But even as she's making fun of him, she's shifting onto his lap and cradling his face with her fingers so soft and cool. She kisses first under his eye, and then his eyelid, and then his lips.

Suddenly shopping for furniture sounds like a really great idea.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Long Weekend**

* * *

"Ooh, wait, baby. Careful of Daddy," she says, catching Dashiell before he can lunge onto his father.

Castle is laid out on the bed with wet towels draped over his back, but he cracks one eye and lifts a hand to tug on Dashiell's foot. "I'm okay. Just hot."

"You've never complained about that before," Kate winks. He rolls his eyes at her and she realizes they've switched places - her with the lame joke and Castle with the Beckett-patented dismissal. "Dash, sit with Daddy while I lock up after the guys."

Castle gives her a thumbs up, meaning he's got this covered, and she leaves her son to crawl around on the bed with his father. Last night, she ran to the pharmacy in town for aloe, and the woman at the checkout counter suggested soaking towels in cold water and applying them to his sunburned skin. Castle seems to like that best.

Downstairs again, Kate moves through the smaller living room to the sliding glass doors, locks them and lays the bar into the track at the base to keep the door from being opened. Outside, the clouds have rolled in for a summer squall, threatening rain and already rumbling thunder, ruining their plans for a cookout.

Castle shouldn't be cooking outside anyway. She'll figure out something to do with the steaks, even though the main kitchen is still in disarray. At least the wine cellar is stocked; after the past couple days, they need it.

Kate moves to the connecting door between the two wings, opens it up to inspect the new floors. They were laid late Saturday night after the painters were finally through, and the bamboo flooring has been left all day today for the glue to dry and the thin boards to set. It's really gorgeous, and even Castle was impressed with the work done in the foyer. It looks as special as it feels, but it's not too grand, not too overwhelming.

Just unique.

The furniture is slated to arrive in about four weeks, so they'll come back and see to the final touches, plus new appliances in both kitchens. Bedding and curtains will come then as well, and it's all coming together.

If a little harried.

Kate locks the through door - a few construction crews still have the keys to the main wing, and she feels a little better with at least a couple doors between them.

"Kate!"

She hears Castle yelling from upstairs, and she turns quickly, knowing it's about Dashiell.

"Kate, incoming!"

"I got him," she calls, already spying Dash as he darts down the hall for the stairs. "Dashiell Hammett, not one more step."

Dash halts, comically stopping himself at the top of the staircase. Castle is lurching down the hall after him, a wet towel hanging from one shoulder, but he stops when he sees her.

"Oh, good," he sighs, sinking back only to yelp and jerk upright when his sunburn touches the wall.

Kate takes the stairs two at a time and scoops Dashiell into her arms, heads for Castle. "You okay?" She lays her hand lightly on his shoulder, his skin slick with water and aloe. "Dashiell, no running. Especially when Daddy can't chase after you. The stairs are very dangerous."

"We need baby gates in here. Holy... I thought he was going straight down."

"Head first, no doubt," she mutters. She can't help squeezing her son a little for that, even as Dashiell whines in her ear to get down. "No. Come on, we'll all go downstairs. Castle, let's grill those steaks."

Thunder booms above the house and Dashiell jumps, wrapping both arms around her neck in fierce clutch. "Mommy."

Castle raises an eyebrow. "We're not grilling anything."

"I meant in the oven. Or stir fry?"

"Maybe the oven. I'll see what I can do." Castle moves past her, draping the damp towel over his shoulder like a toga. She follows him down the stairs, reaching out once to adjust the towel before it can fall, a little smile on her lips.

Bare-chested, still in swimming trunks in deference to the wet towels he's had on his back all day, he looks rather island-native and rough-edged, a man who works with his hands. When Kate was in high school, she took a trip to the Outer Banks with a big group of friends; all of the girls ogled the life guards who would plant umbrellas in the sand for them, working the poles back and forth, back and forth to dig them deep.

Whew. That's what Castle looks like right now, his biceps bulging as he pulls the meat out of the fridge where it's been soaking in steak sauce, his nose reddened, his skin so brown that it sets off his eyes. Sharply, intensely blue.

"Kate Beckett, you can't look at me like that when I have no chance to do anything about it."

She laughs, caught, and waves a hand in front of her face. "Can't help it you're so... hot."

He shoots her a look for that and she leans in with Dashiell on her hip, kisses the burn of skin at his shoulder, just below the draped towel. She catches Dash's outstretched hand before he can slap his father for his attention, pulls the boy away.

"Dash, let's go watch the storm come in. Huh?"

"He hates that and you know it," Castle calls after her.

He does, but if she can show him how amazing it is, how awesome, then maybe he'll stop being afraid.

The second she steps up to the sliding glass doors though, Dashiell's face is buried against her neck. "You're just fine. We're inside our house where nothing can get us. Come on, baby, turn around and look."

"In my house?"

"Yeah," she says softly, nuzzling his cheek. "Come on, the thunder can't get you. It's just letting you know the rain is here. Turn around, baby."

Dashiell doesn't turn, but he does shift his body so that he's only half-hidden against her. He cracks open one eye and watches the wind tossing the palm trees, the sand blown up, and far off, the angry whitecaps in furies on top of the ocean.

"Ohhh," Dashiell sighs. "Not get me."

"No. Can't get you. Not when you're safe in our house."

* * *

"You think he'll sleep?" Castle asks her, glancing down the hall towards Dashiell's door.

"No," she admits. "But I won't sleep much either."

"Kate," he sighs.

"Not because of that," she promises. "Just all the work that still needs to be done, making lists in my head."

"It's my fault." He winces, rubbing a hand down his face. "I just... assumed we'd get up here a lot more than we have, be able to check on things. I guess I thought we'd come up here all the time, now that..."

_Now that we're married._

She made him wait such a long time, didn't she? To Kate's way of thinking, they were a family before their wedding at the cabin, but maybe Castle wanted all his threads tied up, just like any good writer - no loose ends.

She can see that.

"It's _not_ your fault," she says, reaching out to take his hand. She leads him away from Dashiell's room and towards the stairs.

"We made good headway, though," he says, and it sounds like a question.

"I promise, Castle. I'm enjoying it." She nudges him down and they go quietly, trying to keep the steps from creaking, not wanting to Dashiell to think there's any fun going on without him.

"I've enjoyed it too," he says finally, giving her a shy smile. "You've got good ideas."

"Thanks." She smiles warmly back at him, a little stupidly proud that he likes their redecorating so far. "Besides, I needed something to force me to take the time off. To _be _here."

"You have been here. You've been doing a really great job, Kate. Getting home in time for dinner and his bath time. Really. You've-"

"Yeah, but weekends in the summer should be spent here. You're not wrong to want that for us, Castle."

He swallows and nods, takes her hand and leads her to the kitchen. Their wine glasses are sitting empty on the sideboard, but he snags a bottle of red and uncorks it, pours them refills.

She holds hers up in cheers. "We've done a good job, together."

"We have," he says softly, clinking glasses with her.

It's not just the 12th she needs time away from - she really needs this break from _them, _their existence in New York inside that loft. Now that Alexis has moved to Chicago, there isn't the buffer between them, and this stuff with Dash has probably made her a tad bit obsessive. Okay, a lot obsessive.

"The book is at the editor," he tells her suddenly. "I've got a ton of edits, and I'm behind."

Her mouth drops open, glass arrested. "You are? Why didn't you say something?"

What did he say about doing really well? No. They're not doing well at all. It's a good thing she hasn't gotten pregnant yet. They still really _suck_ at communicating.

"I'm saying something right now," he pleads, shrugging, not looking at her.

"Castle, I don't - I don't have the time to take off again-"

"No, I'm not asking you to take off. No. You did that once already, and it's not _that_ bad. I'm telling you so that you know I'm going to have to spend a lot of late nights into early mornings working on it."

She lets out a breath. "Okay. I can get Dashiell ready in the morning. It'll be good. Just the two of us. You sleep if you've edited all night. Or edit in the morning. I'll take him to preschool."

He lifts his gaze to hers, a hesitant hope there. "Really?"

"Castle," she sighs.

"I don't want to miss out on-"

"You and Dash," she mutters. "You always think something exciting is going on in the other room without you. Give me the mornings with him, will you?"

He closes his mouth and nods quickly, takes a gulp of his wine. She winces and sips at her own, wonders if this is how it usually happens. Conversation faltering off into nothing, no real words except about the kids, and then it's over.

"Overseeing this mess hasn't exactly been a vacation," Castle starts.

"It's fine," she assures him.

He nods again, taking her at face value, some of the anxiety easing from his eyes. "Well, yes, we've managed, but I was, uh, talking more about maybe us going somewhere?"

She darts her eyes to his and sees him standing there, nervous and yet blundering through, determined to do good for them.

"Go somewhere," she echoes. "Is that a good idea?"

They nearly broke back in April. There's still fallout from those arguments, the fights about the money and her lack, the role she's taken and her shaky confidence in being a mother, his tendency to keep quiet and not trust her to be able to handle it.

And of course, since the beginning of May, they've been going around and around one diagnosis for Dashiell that scares them both, though neither of them will say it.

Autism.

But Dashiell _does_ at least talk to them; he has language and he seems to learn easily, he's hit all his milestone. It's just the rest of it - the sleeplessness and sensitivity to light and sounds, the obsessive compulsive tendencies - they fall so perfectly in line that it makes her want to hide in the bathroom and cry.

Castle won't talk to her about it. He refuses to see it. _He's just a boy, _even though Castle has never raised a boy. _He hasn't grown out of the colic_, even though his night-time, real-tears crying feels like desperation rather than discomfort. Desperate to sleep.

"Go somewhere," Castle repeats. "A real vacation."

A real vacation. A week or more off work when she already took a week and they're not even halfway through the year. The timing of it is just really bad right now.

Well, Dashiell wasn't good timing either, was he? Her life seems to be a series of fate-interventions, as if she needs to be hit over the head with the best thing for her.

Castle himself wasn't particularly great timing, but she loves him, loves them. She is fighting for her family. She hopes he sees that.

"Okay."

Castle raises both eyebrows.

She shrugs. "Okay. A real vacation. Oh, wait. You didn't - Did you mean - honeymoon or-?"

"A honeymoon?" he says, perking up, standing straighter. He takes a step in her direction, curiosity crawling all over his face. "You'd do that?"

She blinks.

He's tugging on her now, pulling on her hips and bumping their bodies together. "Hey, just - don't overthink it, Kate. You were right about needing a break, both of us, and really, all I meant was-"

"Honeymoon?"

He smiles slowly. "Someplace good, like you said. Paris or the Greek isles. Anywhere you want. I was thinking it would be nice. Just you and me."

She lets out a breath. "Just you and me," she says finally, her eyes searching his. "That's - we haven't really had you and me."

Castle eases back against the kitchen counter, one of his fingers irritatingly tucked into the pocket of her shorts. "No, we really haven't. Unless you count all the years I followed you around at the 12th."

"Partnered me," she interrupts.

He tilts his head with a smile. "Partners, then. We had all of that. And after..." But he stops, won't say it.

"Yeah. Before Dash," she emphasizes. It might be after the Butcher case, but she wants to redefine it as before their son.

He nods. "There's not much before Dash that was... still ours. And it's a good time to go. Before we try for a second."

She softens, smiles at him. It's such bad timing, the whole idea, but when has it ever been good timing for them? "All right." She reaches out and takes his hand from her pocket, their fingers lacing. "A honeymoon. Before we try to get pregnant."

Castle's lips twitch and he leans in to take her wine glass, deposits it on the counter. "Come on. Long day. Long _weekend_. Let's go to bed."

"We're not trying _now,"_ she laughs.He wants to take her on a honeymoon.

"Oh no? Doesn't mean we can't have fun."

She might be looking forward to _just you and me._


	4. Chapter 4

**The Long Weekend**

* * *

Castle hurts.

He's really trying not to whine, but Kate throws him pitying looks every now and then and it makes him want to pull a Dash and bury his face in her neck.

Or her chest. He's not particular.

Since it's Memorial Day, they don't have anyone in the house working, but the new floors have been laid, though the main kitchen is a wreck, still needing countertops and new appliances, things out of place. Cookout has been deemed necessary, even though the servants' kitchen would work just fine.

It's possible he insisted on cooking out, not even a dark cloud in the sky.

Kate has Dashiell in the pool while he figures out the grill, his shirt rasping against his sunburn, but he gets the gas turned on and the flame going after only a few mistakes. He wipes the grease from his fingers onto his shorts without thinking, sighs at the streak of black.

Tonight he's plank-grilling fish fillets on specially bought apple wood. He's been dreaming of mouth-watering smoked fish for weeks now. Of course, he has to grill a burger for Dashiell, though the kid won't eat that either. They'll try to entice him with ketchup, and Castle even bought the good, expensive cheese to lay a few slices over the burger on the grill. He hopes Dash will be faked out into thinking it's a big cheeto or something.

Ah, now for the best part. It's an easy art, plank-grilling, and Kate always gets excited, says the fish melts in her mouth with that look on her face that makes him blush. He never blushes. Only Kate can do that to him.

Castle pops the top off the bucket of salt water and draws out the wood planks, dripping, and lays them over the grill, nudging the ends with his fingers since the metal has already gotten hot. He dips a brush into the dish of olive oil and butter, smears the concoction liberally on the face of the planks where he'll put the fish fillets. Already he can smell it, and his stomach is rumbling in agreement.

When he's got the fish fillets laid out on the planks over the grill, and the hamburger patty is soaking up sauce in the tupperware container, ready, he turns the flame low and closes the grill to let the planks smoke and fish cook.

He grabs his drink from the table, swiping the condensation off the glass and onto the back of his neck where his skin still burns. He closes the lid on the salt water, but he leaves out the butter and olive oil; he'll coat the fish when he comes to check on the grill.

"Daddy!"

"Coming, kiddo," he calls back, heading for the pool. The white fence and the wisteria climbing over it make a nice picture against the roll of the green lawn and the ocean over the hill. He hears Dash yelling for him again as he pushes through the gate.

Dashiell is swimming with floaties on and Kate's guiding hands, his wife with her hair slicked back like a seal, natural and graceful, especially compared to the flailing, awkward kid.

"Cool your jets, Daddy's right there," Kate is telling the boy, holding him away from her.

Castle laughs and sinks down to sit on the edge of the pool, taking in the bright blue water and the white sides, the happy boy splashing his mother. Kate swim-walks the shallow end with Dashiell, the sunglasses on her face more protection for the water the kid is vaulting in her face rather than the sun.

Castle leans over and takes the kid, dragging him in close to clutch his father's knees. He extends his legs to let Dashiell hang on for the ride. Kate sighs and stands up straight, the water only coming up to her ribs, her two-piece swimsuit in a little disarray from Dash's kicking feet and grasping hands. She gives him a roll of her eyes for looking, adjusts her suit bottom with her thumbs, making the elastic pop.

He grunts and she laughs, biting her bottom lip.

"You're merciless," he muters.

Kate holds out her hand to him and he takes it, gripping her wrist as well, bracing himself. She gets a foot against the wall of the pool and rises up out of the water, over the edge to stand. He lets go of her hand and she sits down right beside him, water streaming from her body.

Dashiell claps wildly for her, nearly drowning in his excitement, and Castle laughs, scooping the kid up with his feet. Dash does have floaties on his arms but sometimes his head still goes under.

"Nice trick," he tells Kate, nudging her shoulder.

"How's the sunburn?"

"Hurts pretty bad. I'll never do that again."

She lays her wet hand over his forearm, light and silky and cool, draws patterns over his skin. "I bet you won't." She dips her hand into the water and drizzles more along his arm, cooling him off.

"Thanks," he murmurs. He moves his legs in the pool and Dashiell gets tugged along, giggling, making circles in the water by kicking and splashing. "That feels good."

"We'll put more aloe on tonight," she says. Her fingers skim up his bicep and under the sleeve of his t-shirt, trailing faint drops of water up to his shoulder. He tilts his head to capture her hand with his cheek under his shirt and she laughs.

"You sound tired," he says quietly. Dashiell is loud, screeching as he motors at the far reach of Castle's legs.

"Mm, yeah. Little tired from swimming with the wild man."

"Yeah, he can tire you out."

Dash is singing now, something that Castle faintly recognizes but can't pin down. Kate gives up trailing water along his arm and instead leans completely against him, soaking his shirt and shorts both, her cheek to his shoulder. Guess she really is tired.

He cups the side of her face for a moment, lets her go. Can't tame a wild thing, is that the saying?

She sits up and lifts her foot in the pool, flicks water on Dash to get his attention. He's still humming and spinning, singing to himself, little legs kicking water messily. The kid zips around and faces them, grinning, bursts into the chorus.

"What're you singing, baby?" Kate asks, holding out her foot for him to grab. Dash does, still treading water ferociously, churning great waves in the pool, and as he gets closer, Castle realizes what it is.

"'Take It Easy'," he chuckles, looking at Kate. "You know that one - I've heard your Dad play it. By the Eagles."

"Oh, yeah, I know that song. Dash, you singing?" She leans out for the boy, catches a floatie around his arm and tugs him to the side of the pool. Dash is still singing in his baby voice, not all the words quite coming through, but when he sees his mother's interest, he bursts out loudly with it.

"Take easssssy. Take eassssy. Don't let the sons of yourn whales drive you craaaaa-zy."

Castle roars with laughter, has to catch himself on the side of the pool to keep from falling in, and Dashiell is still repeating that misheard chorus, a little more enthusiastically now that he's made them laugh. _Take it easy, don't let the sounds of your own wheels drive you crazy._

Or, according to Dash, sons of whales.

"Those terrible sons of whales," Kate laughs. "Shame on them." She sounds like she's choking with laughter. He is too. This is just too good.

"You tell 'em, Dash," he says, still chuckling. "Tell Shamu to f-"

"Castle," she rebukes, knocking into him. "He will repeat that."

"I was only gonna say 'frak'," he grins.

"Frak off, Shamu?" And then she cracks up, practically giggling.

Castle laughs, his cheeks hurting he's laughing so hard, and she hooks her arm in his and leans against him, watching Dashiell. The boy is so confused by their laughter, but he doesn't stop singing.

"Don't let those sons of whales get you down," Castle murmurs, the sun bright on the water and his whole body aching with mirth. Feels good to laugh.

"It's sound of your own... wheels, right?"

"Yeah, I guess like spinning your wheels."

"Don't I know that feeling," she mutters, nudging her cheek against his shoulder before she sits up again. "Good to have a weekend off like this. Just get away from spinning my wheels. Those damn sons of whales."

He grunts. _Now _who's cursing? "We needed it," he agrees. "You know that day I couldn't reach you, when no one could-"

"I'm sorry," she sighs. "I didn't mean-"

"No, I know. I just remembered something. I was writing that morning at my desk and Dashiell fell asleep on top of my feet. And I never knew anything was wrong."

"Because nothing _was_ wrong."

He shrugs, lifts his feet so that Dash floats a little away, hooks his toes in a floatie to bring the kid back. "Nothing was wrong, no. But for a few hours there, all I could see was Dash's face and how - how maybe that's all I'd have of you. All of our history boiled down to that little boy."

Kate goes still beside him, tense along his arm, and he knows that's not something he should say, not really. It's not fair to make her think about how her job affects him when there's no better choice. Life is capricious like that, and Castle knows it, whether a detective or a writer, a boy or a man.

He sighs. "That's not fair; I'm sorry. I'm just reminding myself to have days like this, instead. To fill up our lives with weekends like this, laughing and the pool and sunshine and the way Dash is happy. Even if..."

"Even if he's got issues?" she murmurs.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Even if we're not where we want to be. Because we can't control how it takes us. Can we? No matter how much you want to fix it or make it right, we can't. Dash is Dash. You're a cop. I'm a lazy writer who keeps breaking deadlines."

She laughs softly, dipping her fingers in the water to trail up and over to his forearm. "Seize the day, is that it?"

He lets out a relieved breath. "Yes. That's it. Carpe diem. And I've got fish grilling too. All fits together."

Kate laughs, bumps his shoulder. "We can do that. Seize our day. We are doing that. Don't you think?"

Castle flips his hand over and catches her fingers as drops of water slide around his wrist. She presses her palm to his, a kiss of skin, and their fingers twine.

Dashiell is still singing about whales, splashing all the way up to his father's shorts, spinning in mad circles in the pool. It's not exactly normal, but he's happy.

Good enough for Castle. He'll take it as a win.

* * *

Kate is startled awake by the cold touch of air conditioning, the faintly uneasy sense of something not right. She closes her eyes and nudges forward into Castle, the heat of his body slowly dispelling the chill, and yet restlessness finds her, worms into her head.

What woke her?

Kate drags herself out of bed and stands in the darkness, swaying a moment before her feet can hold her. She shivers in the chill and can't remember if she packed a robe, rubs her hands up and down her arms as she crosses the floor.

The bedroom door isn't entirely closed but apparently it was enough to soundproof the room. The moment she steps into the hallway, she can hear Dash crying.

Kate moves quickly to his bedroom and opens the door, not pausing to get her bearings in the darkness. She stubs her bare toes on the edge of the suitcase they packed tonight so they can leave early tomorrow morning. She grunts and hops around it, wincing, but coming to the crib.

Dashiell is huddled on top of the mattress, clutching his bear for dear life as his tears soak the sheets. Upon seeing her, he lifts up and holds his arms out to her. "Mommy," he wails.

"You're okay," she tells him, leaning over the railing and scooping him up. "Hush, Dashiell. I'm here."

"Mommy, Mommy," he whimpers, wriggling his whole body down into her as if he can escape. His face is wet with tears, his curling hair sticking sweatily to his neck, his fingers already gripping her shirt like he did when he was a baby. "Momma."

"Okay, I know," she sighs, cradling the back of his neck and moving slowly through the room. He doesn't quiet easily, he never has, and she feels sometimes like he's too much like Castle to _want_ to go quietly. It's like he needs her to know just how hurt he is.

Kate gives up on getting him back to bed; the sky is licked with fading stars, so she slides into the hall with Dash in her arms, hoping to distract him.

His head picks up, his interest dampening the tears, and she smiles a kiss against his cheek as she carries him down the stairs. Dashiell sits up, pushing off against her chest, more baby than toddler tonight, and when they reach the first floor, he wriggles against her.

But he doesn't seem to want to get down. He's just happy for a change of scenery.

"Did you sleep at all, baby?"

The only answer she gets is a whiny, pitiful, dramatic sob.

"You're really closer to two than a baby, you know," she whispers against his ear. "Time to grow out of this."

"Ooh, so pretty," he croaks suddenly, his head lifting. His eyes are on the sliding glass doors that lead to the deck and the poolhouse beyond, the fence so white against the dark sky. "Mommy, look."

"I see. Did you know that it's three o'clock in the morning?" she hums back. He's not listening to her, instead reaching for the glass and the moon silver beyond. "Three o'clock is for sleeping."

"We go outside?" he says brightly, turning back to her.

"Did you know that three o'clock is for sleeping?"

Dash cups her face in his little hands and looks dead into her eyes. "Outside, Mommy."

She sighs but he's his father's son. How can she say no? She wants to shake off some of her restlessness anyway. "Okay, fine. Outside." She thinks she's also giving in because his eye contact and his communication are just so clear that his issues can't be that bad. Can they?

"Oh, outside!"

Kate carries him to the sliding glass door, faintly surprised he's not struggling to get down, but maybe he's as exhausted as she is, deep down. If only her mind would let her rest - if only _his_ would.

"You're just like me, aren't you?" she murmurs. She kicks the bar out of the track and pushes back the door. The night breeze comes in with warm fingers, wrapping around them, and Dashiell shivers and buries himself in her chest, but he's grinning.

He likes it.

"Come on, my little night owl. Let's go outside, soak up the moon."

"Soak up a moon," he murmurs at her skin.

Kate steps over the sill and onto the wooden deck, makes for the padded benches set at the far end. The material has faded with years and sun, and she wonders if Castle wants to replace this kind of thing as well.

They need to put a baby gate around the pool. There's a fence, but Dash is quick and clever and can open the locked dishwasher, so he'd find a way inside the pretty white fence too.

"Making a list," she tells him, settling down on the bench and leaning against the corner of the railing. "Pool gate, better cushions on this deck. Ouch."

"Ouch," he laughs back, wriggling his bottom down into her lap. She cups the back of his head and he seems content to stay right where he is, his cheek at her shoulder and his eyes on the horizon.

"You see the ocean way way out there?"

"Waves and ocean."

"Yeah, Daddy told you about the waves and all the sea creatures."

"I see whales."

"You do not," she laughs, kissing his forehead. "No sons of whales out there."

"Whales, Momma."

"Say, go away, Shamu."

"Go 'way, Sam." He makes a shooing movement with a tired hand. "Whales."

"Maybe you see whitecaps."

"High-caps?"

"Whitecaps. The tops of the waves are white where the water churns. Don't worry. It's just words, baby."

"Just words, Mommy."

"Yeah, I know. You and Daddy trade words."

"High-caps?"

"Yeah, you tell Daddy that."

"I tell Daddy."

Kate laughs and strokes the sweaty hair back from his forehead, ruffling the limp curls in the breeze coming from the water. She can hear the ocean from here, now that it's night-quiet, and she's glad Dashiell convinced her.

This is a good place. She knows why Castle bought this estate, and even if that was another wife, a different family, it's still _her_ family too. Alexis is her son's sister, her own step-daughter, there are connections, cords between then and now. It's her children's home, and the pipes bursting was fate intervening to make her see that.

It's her home too. All of this is her home, wherever they are together.

"Whales, Mommy."

"Does that mean you want a bedtime story?"

"High-caps and whales."

"Sure. Let me think," she murmurs, laying her cheek on top of his head. She could fall asleep like this. It would be so easy to drift...

"Mommy."

"Yeah, yeah," she rouses. "Story. Sons of whales on our beach. Hm, there was a little boy named Dashiell who had a whole beach all to himself. Every night, to help him get sleepy enough to stay in his own bed, he would walk up and down the beach. Through the sand, over the dunes, in and out of tide pools, little crabs crawling over his toes and making him giggle."

"Mommy," Dash sighs against her neck. "Where my whales?"

"No interrupting," she murmurs, lightly squeezing his ear lobe. "Every night, up and down the beach. Until one night, he saw a whale coming in close. So close. Almost where he could wade out and touch it."

Kate pauses, just long enough to think of something else, a new direction for her story, a plot, but apparently all Dash needed was a little introduction.

He's fallen asleep against her chest, mouth open, body curled over hers.

She cups the back his head, combs her fingers through the dark hair that's already lost so much of the baby curl.

She'll have to carry this heavy boy back upstairs to his bedroom and tuck him in under the covers again, but for now, she'll watch the moon lace his dark lashes and feel the slow rise and fall of his chest with his breathing.

So their timing has never been great, but she's not half bad at this. Having a little body snuggled up to hers, telling bedtime stories about whales or dinosaurs, these are the things she cherishes.

She and Castle will figure it out; they have all the reason in the world right here.


End file.
